Inconcessus Amor
by Diabolikal Luna
Summary: Dramione:: It's the summer holidays and flashing red and blue lights at the house opposite attract Hermione's attention at the start of a unpredictable seventh year. Seventh Year fic with a Draco Hermione orientation.
1. Chapter 1

**Inconcessus Amor**

**Chapter One: Wrong House?**

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_some say in ice._

—Robert Frost

It was not unusual for Hermione Granger to be reading a book in the comfort of her own bed, what was unusual, was the size of the book. It was rather thin, to be precise and could not have been more than ninety pages long. It was a small, hard-backed book with gold gilding down the sides of the inside pages. She rested her book down for a moment and sighed discontentedly.

Her room was of an average size. The walls were decorated in a Cherry Blossom pink and the carpet a mint green. The furniture was pine; the bookcase in the far corner of the room—crammed with books—the wooden trunks where she kept treasured possessions, her wardrobe and a chest of drawers—on top of which was delicately resting a large mirror. Her bed was just beside the large, open window; a blue spread with an oriental pattern in red and finally, the bedside table, also in pine, where rested a lava lamp. Her large ivory curtains were pulled back to the sides.

Hermione ignored Crookshanks— her large ginger cat who deposited fur wherever he walked— as he ventured into the room and slipped her legs over the side of her bed, knocking her table as she did so. She grimaced for a moment and rubbed her knee with her spare left hand, before resting her book on the side of the bed. Standing up, she brushed out the creases in her genes and pulled her black t-shirt down so that it covered her stomach.

It had been an extremely dull day, one of many during what seemed to be the longest summer holiday since she had started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It seemed unlikely that the weather would improve at all that summer and being home alone was no joy, especially as she could not even sit outside to bask in the sunshine.

Her parents had been at home for the beginning of the summer holidays. The first four weeks had been extremely enjoyable and a well needed break from the disastrous affairs that had been swirling in the magical world that year. Now the fifth week was almost at an end and her parents would nearly have finished the first week of two at a resort in Devon. Hermione had originally planned on attending the holiday as well but due to the lack of sunshine and the amount of work she had neglected, she had decided to remain at home.

Over the last couple of days, the weather had become increasingly worse and it had been the worst Sunday that she could remember for a long time. Hermione glided over to her window, dodging a hooded top that had fallen onto the floor and peered out of the open window, catching her reflection in the glaze as she did so. She'd tied her hair back into a high ponytail; the brown, wavy locks bouncing about as her head tilted and her dark brown eyes lightening as she looked out into the rapidly darkening sky.

The avenue below her bedroom window was not surprisingly quiet. There were only seven houses—including Hermione's own—and they were all extremely familiar when examining the exteriors. Large square houses; plastered with climbing plants and layered with symmetrical bricks and windows. Two of the houses—Hermione's and the opposite—had been extended into the attic and the window in the house opposites one, was gleaming from the reflection of the light.

Turning her head away from the outside world, Hermione turned back to look at Crookshanks, who was happily stretched out across her bed with his face squashed against the pillow. She smiled and sat beside him so that she could stroke the skin behind his ears, where the fur was softest. She kissed him on the chin and he rolled over to escape.

Hermione giggled. 'Meany,' she informed her pet, tickling him on the stomach quickly and then avoiding his claws as he became restless.

Hermione grinned again and scanned the window; tiny flecks of moisture had appeared on the side that was closed. She leant forwards to close the window and could hear the family opposite rowing again. Their conversations she had become quite accustomed to; apparently, their son did not want to go to University.

She clipped the latch of the window firmly and pushed the glass with the back of her hand to check that it was not loose. She then moved across the floor and left her room via the door in front of her bed, deciding to get herself a drink before going to bed.

Yawning, Hermione stepped into the hallway and ran down the stairs, her feet brushing against the backs. It was a rather narrow hallway, painted in Magnolia and carpeted in a light brown. There were several framed pictures and a mask her parents had bought whilst on holiday in Africa.

The ground floor to the house was very much closed; the landing into the front door was pretty wide, with several closed doors cutting off of it. Hermione took the first door to her right and closed it behind her so that she was in the kitchen of her house. It was one of the back rooms and overlooked a small but well-kept garden.

There appeared to be a tint of Greek in the décor of the kitchen and rested along a windowsill, where several large olive plants. Everything was clean and in its place; from the spotless, shiny tiles on the floor, to the heavy lampshade that hung from the ceiling.

Opening a cupboard to the side of her, Hermione took out a glass and laid it on top of the counter beside the sink. She then moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Butter Beer, the last of the dozen Ron had sent her. She poured it into her glass appreciatively.

The empty bottle disappeared and she began to steadily carry out the glass of drink from the room and closed the kitchen door behind her. A flash of light through the stained glass window in the front door caught her attention but she decided that it was just lightening from a gathering summer storm.

Climbing the stairs carefully, Hermione approached the landing and walked back into her room, sparing a glance for Crookshanks, who was now asleep on the end of her bed and snoring gently. She rested the glass on her bedside table and walked over to her window to close the curtains.

The red and blue lights were the first thing to catch her attention. An ambulance was parked outside of her opposite neighbours house and she remembered that the sirens where never used when people had had a heart problem. However, two police cars then pulled up outside of her own house and Hermione gently pressed her hand against her trouser pocket. It was safely there.

She could have sworn she had seen someone in the window of the attic opposite; watching her from under what appeared to be a hooded … cloak. She could not control her eyes from widening and she doubled back. There was a Death Eater at the Flanders house. She was sure of it.

Against all of her best interests, she knew that if there was more than one and they were still in the area, the police would not really be prepared for a magical attack; she was also pretty sure that Ministry of Magic officials would arrive shortly and perhaps Mr Weasley. She was worried that they may have been looking for her, especially as she was positive none of the Flanders where in any way sourced with magic.

Hermione ran down the stairs as quickly as she could manage, pulled on a pair of trainers that were rested on the mat beside the front door and quickly pulled herself around the now open frame, before closing it behind her. She wasn't the only person who had come out of their house. It appeared that all of the neighbours had been aroused by the gradually building noise.

Dodging a couple of people that she didn't recognise, Hermione scooted over to the other side of the road, only to be stopped by a policeman. She had to get into that house somehow.

The policeman tilted his curved hat. 'Sorry, miss,' he began, 'you can't come any further.'

Hermione put on the best watery eyes she could muster. 'Is he okay?' she asked the officer, allowing her voice to fluctuate. Thankful for the rows the previous evening, she finished, 'is Dan alright?' she asked again, checking for her wand once again. It was safe.

The policeman's eyebrows met slightly. 'I'm afraid that I don't know who you mean. There was only a couple in that house,' he paused briefly, 'there was an empty bed in the attic room that looked like someone had been in it,' he added, 'do you know the family well?'

She had to get into the house. 'Very,' Hermione continued to allow her voice to fluctuate. 'I go to school with their son,' she informed him, realising that it was a crime to lie to an officer.

He looked at her sadly. 'I'm afraid the husband and wife have been taken to hospital. It must have been the son who called the ambulance but he's not there now. The house is empty,' he informed her.

Hermione bit on her lip. 'Could I go in and get their dog for them then. I know they'd be heart broken if anything happened to it,' she added, praising herself for her quick thinking.

The police officer pursed his lips together. 'Just a minute,' he requested and Hermione watched as he approached another officer who was writing down information provided from other neighbour. She saw him nod and then return to her as quickly as he had left. 'You may get the dog but be careful; the house has been checked but nobody saw the attackers leave,' he informed her.

Hermione nodded. 'Thank you very much. I'll leave a note so they know that I've got their dog,' she added quickly, before rushing into the neighbour's house before the officer had a chance to change his mind.

She used to be a well known visitor to the Flanders' when she had been younger. The two families had used to baby sit for each other from time to time but since attending Hogwarts, she had seen very little of the family. Nothing much had changed. The rooms still smelt musky and where painted in neutral colours. She sighed to herself; there was no evidence of an attack.

The officer stood in the door and Hermione quickly remembered that this was not a trip down memory lane. 'Here, Olbas,' she cooed, hoping that Dan had not taken the dog with him. There was something about his disappearance that didn't feel right. 'He must be hiding upstairs,' she called, 'I'll go and get him.'

Feeling her heart miss a beat, she ran up the stairs of the house and looked about the landing in a three hundred and sixty degrees spin. She was pretty sure that nobody was in the house but Hermione pulled her wand from out of her pocket and put it in front of herself.

Walking into what appeared to be the master bedroom; Hermione scanned the room once again. Deciding that she had better check to see that the dog wasn't in there, she walked forwards. How it happened, she'd probably never understand but the next thing she knew, was the fact that she was lying on the floor next to an unconscious Draco Malfoy, who was half visible under what must have been an invisibility cloak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Decisions**

_The die is cast._

—Julius Caesar

Hermione's heartbeat had increased dramatically, causing the blood to pump furiously around her body, as she tried to approach a rational explanation as to why Draco Malfoy was there and what she should eventually do with him. In the long run, it would be far easier just to hand him over but something was conveying her; suggesting that she should take another approach.

She then realised that during her thoughts, she had failed to recover herself from her fallen position and quickly stood up, blushing as she did so, even though nobody was present other than the unconscious youth. She could hear someone treading harshly on the stairs and this pushed her into a new state of awareness.

Hermione quickly reached down and pulled the cloak over Draco's body. She didn't understand what had compelled her to do such a thing but it was too late to take a second thought, as the police officer she had been speaking to previously, waltzed into the room.

His eyes hovered over her for a second and peered up from her crouching position. 'Are you alright, Miss?' he asked her tonelessly. 'I tried calling but you didn't respond,' he added.

Keeping her foot on the edge of Draco's body, so that she could respond if he moved. Hermione stood up once again. 'Oh, sorry officer,' she said slyly, rubbing her neck. 'I must not have heard. I was just checking under the bed for the dog. Looks like it's not here,' she added thoughtfully.

The police officer surveyed the room and nodded in agreement. 'I think it would be best if you went home; looks like the dog has either gotten out or a family member has taken it with them,' he offered her the explanation politely but Hermione could tell that her stay at the house was now over.

She smiled in response. 'Of course, Sir,' she then thought it would be a good idea to continue the discussion that she had indeed been after a family dog. As she stepped forwards, following the police officer, she muttered an incantation under her breath and hid the wand behind her back.

As she carefully walked down the stairs, slow enough to be cautious but not to seem suspicious, she bit on her lip as the officer and she approached the bottom of the stairs. Careful to keep the wand hidden, she allowed herself to be shown out of the front door, weaving herself and the invisible other, through a crowd of police officers who had now gathered.

She sighed in relief as nobody had been aware of the presence. The magical link that her wand was giving was her only reason for thinking that Draco was still travelling with her.

As the officer showed her out onto the street, she smiled for a second and was pleased of an excuse to turn her back away from him. She began to walk backwards. 'I live just over here, opposite,' Hermione began carefully making sure not to gesture with her wand, 'if you happen to see the dog, feel free to bring him over,' she added.

Hermione watched as the officer half nodded at her and disappeared back into the house. It was obvious that he wasn't interested in her anymore. Wondering how long it would take for the alarm to be raised in the magical world, Hermione slammed her door shut and pattered around in the air.

Her hand came into contact with Draco's body and she pulled the invisibility cloak off of him, careful to keep the levitating charm in force. She wondered what could have caused him to fall unconscious, as she began to levitate him up the stairs and towards the spare bedroom beside her own.

She opened the spare room door and pulled herself and Draco into the smallest bedroom of the house. It was a plain room. Whitewashed walls with a green boarder, a single bed took up the whole stretch of the room with a black and white bedspread and there was a small window with white and green curtains. Just below was a bedside cabinet with only a fan and a clock on the surface. The floor was also green; a scratchy carpet.

Hermione sighed as she tucked her wand into her pocket and stared down at the slumbering teenager. 'What were you doing?' she whispered suspiciously.

Hermione wondered what on earth had possessed her to take on such a task as this. She understood fully that she should not have removed him from the house and began to come up with reasons as to why she had done it. If anyone from the Ministry of Magic asked, she would tell them it was to make sure no muggles found him.

'You've turned me deceitful,' she hissed, staring at the unresponsive person on the bed. 'This can never be good.'

Hermione shoved his cloak under the bed and hoped that if he awoke without her being in the room, he would not look there for it. Then the terror of what he would say to her sank in. She knew he hated her and exactly what he and his friends were capable.

She stepped back and scanned him again, almost as if searching him for his wand. She bowed her head and shook an image out of her head. 'Don't you dare move,' she muttered and turned to leave the room.

'Don't worry, I can't,' he informed her through gritted teeth.

Her heart skipped a circulation and she paused in her tracks, taking in a huge gulp of air. Turning smoothly on her heals; she looked back over Draco, whose eyes were now wide open. Dull and expressionless.

'Have you been leg-locked?' Hermione asked stupidly, regretting it moments later and noticing a huge red lump that was gradually appearing on his forehead. She could tell that he was feeling sick from the pale green tinge in his cheeks.

'Full body bind, actually,' he muffled again.

Hermione spared a moment t wonder why he wasn't insulting her or her home. 'Where's you wand?' she asked him forcefully but with her words struggling to find themselves.

'Right trouser pocket,' he winged through his teeth and she could not help but giggle in her head. Moments later she was pretty glad she hadn't done it out loud. She bent over him and sure enough, there was his wand. She plucked it from his pocket and put it in her own.

Draco only half glared at her as she muttered the counter spell. 'Don't move,' she said, putting her wand into the pocket with his.

Draco grinned slightly. 'Like that would stop me,' he began to sit up and instantly sunk back down onto the pillow, making retching noises. 'Bloody, Bestia,' he moaned, rubbing his head.

'Don't you dare throw up,' Hermione said, eyes widening as she watched him.

'I can't really help it,' he sighed, rubbing his throat.

She went to smack his hand away, as she would do to her friends Ron or Harry but quickly countered her movement. 'You're going to make yourself feel worse,' she informed him and was sure that he grinned. 'You're trying to!'

'Ah,' he clutched his ears, 'are you on helium or something m—' he stopped himself from speaking and there was a period of awkward silence.

Hermione shook her head. 'Do you want a drink of water,' she offered with a lack of kindness in her tone of voice. She wondered whether this was what insanity felt like. She was sure Harry and Ron would never speak to her again. Well, they didn't have to find out.

'I'd rather have a firewhiskey,' he informed her, almost grinning.

'And I'd like the bed to still be clean in the morning,' she responded back.

As Hermione turned her back on him, she saw him grin. She was certain of that and a sudden thought struck her. She wondered whether he actually remembered who she was but reality forced her into thinking that there was no forgetfulness in his presence. Shaking her head slightly, she pressed her hand against the two wands.

'I've gone mad,' she muttered. 'Mad.'

Chapter Three: Believing In Goodness

_There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it_

_so._

—William Shakespeare


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Believing In Goodness

_There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it_

_so._

—William Shakespeare

Hermione stretched her arms into the air and her neck jerked forwards slightly as she turned to the side recklessly. She had fallen asleep, which had not been her intention at all. Relief warmed her blood as she examined the male lying on the bed; he was positioned with his back towards her and snoring lightly. She moaned slightly as she tucked her knees up towards her chest.

Remaining on the floor where she had fallen asleep, she waited a few moments for the tingling sensation in her lower legs to disintegrate. She covered her mouth with her right hand for a second and yawned lightly, wondering whether she had made a mistake in recovering him. Hermione trusted her instincts and was usually rewarded for having a good sense in judgement.

Hermione smiled to herself for a second. Pulling herself into a standing position, she used the wall to support herself and checked the time on the clock that was on the bedside table. It was just past eight in the morning, which meant she had been sleeping in excess of four hours. That would have been plenty of time for him to have left the house and return again. The thought troubled her but she doubted herself and forced herself to believe that he would not have retuned again, should he have left.

She tapped her pocket and found that both her own wand and Draco's were safely in the material pouch. That was her guarantee that he had not vacated the room at all; if anyone came within a centimetre of her own wand, she would have responded instantly. She continued to scan him for a moment but her focus gradually turned to the small window.

Peering out of the room through the clouded glass nervously, she squinted her eyes because of the gradually rising sun. The sky was clear and an oceanic blue; not a cloud patterned the sky and several birds hovered in the summer breeze. The weather last night had shifted a beautiful clear day. She looked down onto the road below the bedroom, just feet from her own room; she could see the neighbours' house perfectly.

A police car remained on the drive and there was a barricade of tape around the drive and front garden. Hermione closed her eyes for a second and a chill ran down her back. She observed two officers, as the patrolled the garden. A second police vehicle approached the Flanders' house and she recognised it to be a specialist forensic unit.

Pulling the curtains, Hermione allowed the room to fall into darkness for a moment, before stepping over to the door of the room and opening it. Light flooded in from the hallway and she looked behind her to check the bed. It took a couple of minutes for her to register the difference. Draco had shifted onto his back and his eyes were focussed on her.

Neither of them moved, until Hermione eventually took a step forward. Biting her top lip slightly, she looked at the ceiling and checked her pocket again. The wands were securely inside.

'Do you feel okay?' she asked, almost timidly. It was polite but not as formal as she would use towards her friends.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, as though her voice had barely broken the silence. He nodded meekly and Hermione was certain that the corners of his mouth twitched. 'Yeah.'

She nodded slowly, back arched defensively. She opened her mouth but only allowed air to escape from her lips. There was a period of awkwardness and Hermione tried to summarise what was going through his mind with little success. Eventually she took another step forward and examined his head for a moment.

'Lump's gone down,' she pointed out plainly, making to gesture to his injury physically.

He lifted his hand up to his head and stroked the bruised area of his forehead. His hair was matted and fell forwards as he moved his hand away; he cringed slightly. 'Feels like it,' he sighed and Hermione ignored the sarcasm in his voice.

Hermione paused in her thoughts for a moment. 'There's an open fireplace downstairs. My parents had it reopened and I had it connected to the network so that friends could drop by,' she added shortly, 'I'll go light a fire,' she informed him, turning backwards.

His eyes pierced into her back and she sensed movement from the bed, as he shifted his legs over the side of the bed. Almost stepping out through the door, she moved unnaturally slowly, as if wishing him to offer some kind of information, explanation or even, thanks. She couldn't understand herself, why she believed that Draco would offer this without any reluctance—just purely good intentions.

'Wait,' he stated quietly. His tone of voice was so grey. She turned around; he was barely a foot away from her. 'I haven't anywhere to go. Don't bother.'

Hermione watched him avoid contact with her eyes. Rather than question him upfront, she decided to give him the opportunity to confess his own reasons. She nodded and stared at the floor, as he was doing, for a short period before conspiring to make sure she had true advantage. She was certain that someone was observing her but wondered whether it was a guilty conscience.

'Well, if that's what you want. I can lend you some money to get into London,' she offered, twitching a smile from her own mouth.

His head bounced up quickly but he appeared to control a sudden violent urge. 'Ride on a bloody muggle transportation device. You trying to kill me?' he looked utterly put out.

'Well, you refused to use the flow network—I'm certain that's a simpler way of getting to Diagon Ally—or Knockturn,' she added tonelessly, 'your preference.' He stared back at her for a moment and his cheeks darkened, reminding Hermione of Ron. Allowing him to calm slightly she continued to speak, 'or you could take a shower here and then see how you feel.'

Draco shifted onto his left leg slightly and cringed. He smirked, 'an opportunity to get me naked, eh, Granger?' she could tell that his words were forced but a strange sensation blessed her body.

She smiled, almost seductively. 'Not quite, Malfoy,' she emphasised his name. 'You look a mess,' he gawped at her and she continued, 'and the hot water will relax the pain,' she added politely.

He opened his mouth and Hermione was certain that he was going to argue with her or at least defend his position. He sighed slightly and nodded. She watched his throat as he swallowed heavily. Draco brushed his fringe from his eyes and scanned lower down Hermione's body.

She dented her mouth slightly. 'Don't worry, you're wand is safe.'

'How do you know that's what I was looking at?' he almost joked.

Hermione waltzed through the door and pressed her hand against the wall. Stretching upwards, she opened an airing cupboard. 'Because I'm a filthy mudblood,' she reminded him carefully and smiled secretly, as he made no effort to return the comment. She pulled a small face clothe from the cupboard. 'This should be big enough,' she held it up for him to see.

Turning her neck to look at him, she noticed that he was pale and unobservant. Wondering whether she had made an impression, she watched as his expression changed in realisation of what she had offered him.

Hermione found it hard to smile. 'I'm joking. Here,' she pulled a large, grey towel from the airing cupboard and handed it to him. 'The shower's in there. Take as long as you want,' she offered kindly, gesturing to a door on the left.

He nodded and she watched him walk stiffly into the bathroom, obviously trying to hide a leg injury unsuccessfully. He closed the door quickly and Hermione waited for the sound of the taps, before turning away and running her fingers through her own hair in an attempt to smarten herself up.

Slowly moving over the landing, Hermione approached the stairs and began to walk down them slowly. The skin on her neck was raised but she presumed it was because of Draco's presence. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed that the kitchen door was closed and was certain that she had left it open the previous night.

As she opened the door, before she had even passed through the frame, a voice spoke to her. 'You took your time, Miss Granger.'

For a moment, Hermione recoiled and allowed the door to open firmly before twisting her arm around for her wand. She pulled Draco's out by mistake and scanned the small table where a witch was sitting. She sighed in relief and lowered the wand quickly.

'Professor?' she questioned the older witch naively. The woman was tall, thin and had grey hair tied into a tight knot at the back of her head, upon witch sat a black, pointed hat.

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly. 'I doubt that wand would have done much to protect you, Hermione, goodness forbid I had been an intruder.'

Hermione realised that she had been rather careless, as an intruder would have unlikely known her name. She tucked the wand with her own and moved into the kitchen to stand in front of the professor.

Hermione nodded but was left no time to make a verbal response. 'Miss Granger, I have very little time to spend with you but what I am about to ask of you, I must have your full guarantee to execute with a full Gryffindor heart,' she began and Hermione nodded willingly. 'We—the Ministry— know what occurred last night in the house opposite and you must trust me enough not to question details,' she paused for breath, 'protect Draco and he in return, will protect you.'

Hermione took a step backwards and Professor McGonagall stood up, towering Hermione with a good few inches of extra height. 'Protection? Oh no, I can see where this is going. I don't want to play around with that kind of magic, Professor,' Hermione's voice was shaking and McGonagall was watching her with sad, kind eyes. 'I've never shown any kind of resistance before, but—'

'Hermione,' McGonagall began, a sense of urgency in her voice, 'you must trust my judgement—I promise no harm will come to you and it is only for the remainder of the holidays. A week. I am certain you can survive seven days. He just requires your trust. I assure you his intentions last night were purely good.'

Hermione barely had time to consider the words. 'I,' she began to stammer, understanding that her choice was not really optional. 'How can his intentions be good?'

'Are you certain they were bad?' McGonagall responded and Hermione lowered her head to show her understanding. 'I can cast the spell in such a way he won't even know that it's occurred,' Hermione's mouth widened slightly but Professor McGonagall raised her hand. 'Long enough for him to return to Hogwarts and then the spell will be complete.'

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but there was no rejection on her face. She nodded and turned to move out of the way of her professor, who was standing ready to apperate out of the room. Hermione wondered whether she could make Draco disappear to somewhere else but allowed her mind to settle on more pressing matters.

'Good,' the professor smiled, 'because it's already done,' Hermione tried to control a scowl as McGonagall peered out of the window. 'Trust me, Miss Granger, it is an everyone's best. Let's avoid telling Mr Weasley and Mr Potter, shall we?' she paused for a second and added, 'oh! Congratulations,' with a wink of her left eye, the professor was gone, leaving Hermione in total shock.

'What kind of a hybrid spell has she put on me?' Hermione muttered to herself under her breath, 'no wonder he wouldn't leave this morning. I wonder whether he has realised?' Hermione shook her head to stop talking to herself aloud and began to pour a bowl of cornflakes into a bowl on the side of the sink from a box she had not bothered to put away from the previous day.

She bent down to search the lower half of the fridge for some remaining milk. Realising that she need to get some food for the remaining week, she flinched slightly, sensing an extra presence in the room. Standing up quickly, she felt the muscle in her knee twang as she turned around.

Draco stared at her from the doorway, a bead of water rolling down his forehead from where he had clumsily dried himself. He was dressed but his clothes were clinging to his skin. He nodded thankfully and she pulled the carton of milk out of the fridge. Walking past him, she smelt an extremely familiar, sweet aroma. Pausing for a second, she stopped and looked at him curiously.

'Did you use my shampoo?'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Impressions**

_Such is: what is to be?_

_The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?_

—Francis Thompson

Why he had to sit so silently, Hermione could not understand. The way he was spooning at his cornflakes reminded her of a child who had become bored of the same morning rituals within life. She blinked slowly, hardly corresponding to the fact that she had been watching his wrist turn so carefully. She quickly spooned a portion from her own bowl but he appeared too absent to notice her actions.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the window and Hermione's concentration lapsed as she avoided the light by holding her hand over her right eye for a moment. As she lowered her hand again, she wiped the corner of her mouth and looked up towards a wall clock, which was in the shape of a farmyard pig. She coughed slightly as a cornflake lodged in the back of her throat.

Picking up a glass to the right of her, she sipped lightly at the crystal clear water and swallowed slower than usual, trying to make minimal noise. Her guest looked as though the slightest movement would shock his heart into stopping. She lowered the glass silently and peered over at him again; milk glistened on his chin. Hermione shook her head slightly and tried to abstract herself.

Hermione pulled herself back into the chair and scanned a portable radio on the kitchen sadly. She felt that it was probably best to avoid playing music from her world with Draco in the vicinity; she didn't want to ignite his emotions, even without his wand. She patted her trousers again and was relieved by the security of the two wands in her pocket. She stood up and Draco shifted with her movement.

Picking up her empty bowl and glass, she moved over to the kitchen sink and began to run the water to a careful temperature. She wondered whether Draco even knew what washing a dish was, especially with his hundreds of poor House Elves and lack of understanding of actual human activities. She felt that it was best not to think of matters, as she was likely to detest his presence more so.

She swirled the water around the bowl and left it to rest on a plastic rack beside the sink. She paused for a moment before repeating the process with her spoon and glass. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Draco was no longer spooning at his food but was rather staring towards the window and Hermione presumed that he was watching the crow on the washing line.

Slowly, she turned off the water and turned around to look at him reluctantly. The lack of expression made her feel pity towards him and she almost wanted to see the look of disgust that was usually present in his steely eyes. Leaning against the kitchen counter in front of the sink, she rubbed her trousers for a moment and sighed to herself.

'You worked out the shower then, did you?' she asked him conversationally. He nodded slowly in response. Biting her lip before speaking, she opened her mouth nervously. 'You don't have to eat it, you know,' Hermione stated coolly.

He avoided making any contact with her eyes as he lowered the spoon again. 'I'm just not hungry, that's all,' he added tonelessly.

She nodded slowly and moved over to collect the bowl from where he was sitting. Turning her back on him, she began to empty the bowl into the waste bin, with the spoon he had used. She felt that the metal was warm. The lid of the bin dropped with a loud clash and she moved over to the sink to rinse the bowl out, as she had done with her own.

She paused for a moment. 'So, the fact that it came from here,' she stopped herself from finishing the sentence, assuring herself that her thoughts would make no impression.

With her back still turned to him, she could feel his eyes falling upon her. 'Has nothing to do with anything,' he mumbled almost inaudibly.

A brief moment in time fell short and Hermione almost felt the temperature in the room rise. She decided that it was simply because she had been standing in front of the window too long. Hermione did not want to know why and presumed that it was simply a reaction to whatever spell she and Draco were under but she had no intention of using her lifestyle as a means of leverage against him any further. He seemed oblivious to the fact, so she would also. It was the only way the week would be durable.

Hermione took a step forward but recoiled. There was a pottery biscuit jar on a corner shelf in the kitchen. She reached upwards and ignored the fact her top stretched upwards with her arm. Removing the jar from the shelf and lowering herself from the stretch, Hermione took the lid off and began to count something with her hand still inside. After a moment or two, she removed a wallet, refreshed with money, from the jar.

Returning the jar to the shelf, she turned on her heal slightly and noticed that Draco's head had jerked forwards. Observing him for a moment, almost curiously, she simply shook a disastrous theory from her mind and put the wallet and money in her spare pocket. She pulled her t-shirt down so that it covered the wands in her second pocket.

She stammered her breath for a second and quickly glanced away and back again. Moving towards the backdoor of the house, she reached for some trainers that were settled on a rack. She pulled the shoes on without adapting the laces and moved a couple of strands of hair from obstructing her vision as she did so.

'I'm going to the supermarket,' she began bluntly, 'what size do you take?'

His head bobbed upwards violently and Hermione tried to unravel a concoction of emotions on his face. At first he had appeared curious, it had not occurred to her for a moment that he didn't understand the concept of a supermarket. She blushed as he raised his left eyebrow and she realised that her question needed developing. He smirked; the most emotion she had seen upon his face for a good hour or so.

'You're not proposing to wear those,' she scanned his black trousers and t-shirt wearily, 'all week, do you?'

She could tell that he understood her point. 'Well, I'm hardly going to tell you that, am I?'

She tightened her lips. 'Well, I can't keep washing them everyday, can I?'

His cheek dented and she realised that she had made point of a prolonged stay. He watched her for a moment and she shifted her face to the side, pretending to watch the birds in the garden. Draco cleared his throat and she peered away thoughtfully, hoping that he would speak without her pure attention.

Draco remained on his chair but sat to the side, his legs stretched in front of himself. 'Your cat was hissing at me, as I came out of the bathroom,' he informed her and Hermione wondered whether she would become accustomed to the polite tone in his voice.

'He's a good companion,' she added with a shrug, pulling some keys from a hook on the wall and attaching them to a belt ring on the waist of her trousers.

Draco twitched his head to the side and nodded. He stood up quickly as Hermione took a few steps towards the kitchen door. She attempted a small smile as she walked past him and tried to ignore his presence as she passed through the door and into the hallway. As Hermione approached the front door of her house, she turned around quickly to face Draco, as he was tailing her.

She stared at him for a moment, pupils widening. 'Coming, are you?' she asked smoothly, before pulling the handle down so that the door could widen.

Hermione noticed that there was a timid nature to his walk, as he passed through the door closely behind her and then in front. There was also a slight limp remaining but it seemed to have strengthened drastically since she had last seen him walk. Turning around, she closed the door with a light thud and avoided eye contact with any of the people who were working at the house opposite.

For a moment, Hermione led him towards the main road in silence. She walked casually at her usual speed but slowed her pace when she realised that there was a slight cringe dented into Draco's cheeks. He stepped off of the curb as they turned a corner. The sound of a cars horn blasted and Draco recoiled backwards, almost falling into Hermione. She cringed, worry had flashed before her for a moment.

Draco began to swear openly at the car and driver, even though it was well out of hearing distance. Local residents were observing him from the opposite side of the road. One woman ushered her small child along quickly and glared at Hermione angrily. Hermione quickly avoided her eyes and stared at Draco wearily.

She tapped him on the arm and gestured with her head for him to cross the road, thankful that he was too irate to judge her. 'I told you this place would kill me!' he blurted out, face red but temper lowered.

Hermione continued to walk the path, hoping that Draco would not react that way again. She was not as cross with him as she thought she should be; in his position, she could see why he had reacted in that nature. The car had been speeding. She tried to argue with her own mind and could not understand why she was justifying his actions.

'You didn't have to come. You just had to tell me you size—I wouldn't have judged. You could have stayed at home,' the sentence seemed odd to Hermione, even as she spoke. The term home was used loosely but somehow, it seemed accurate.

'And let you wander off with my wand?' it seemed to have been an opportunity to remind her that she still occupied his life-force. A sense of guilt surged through her momentarily and she avoided the statement. She ignored a passer-by who shot them a curious look.

'We're nearly there,' she informed him quietly, trying to keep her voice toneless.

Hermione continued to lead Draco towards a small town centre. She watched him for a moment; the expression in his eyes was readable and showed a mixture of terror and interest. She smiled to herself and took a small alleyway to the right of the path. Draco was following her closely but almost appeared to be trying to seem separate from her. Hermione decided that she was being paranoid.

They ventured through the alley. Hermione had avoided a large car park by taking it and had thought it best that way. They passed onto a large tiled pathway for a new shopping development and Hermione watched as Draco's eyes searched upwards for the sign above the large building. It was bright green and simply said, ASDA. She smiled as he wandered beside her, trying to see through the darkened glass within the frame of the building.

Hermione pulled her wallet from her pocket and searched for a pound coin to use in the trolley. Once she had found one, purposely avoiding Draco's attempt to pretend not to be curious, she quickly pressed the pound into the contraption and released the first trolley of the row. Pulling it backwards, she allowed Draco to walk alongside her, as she walked through the large, automatic doors. Draco did not speak, he simply followed beside Hermione.

'We'll find you some clothes first,' she told him, 'they stock a few here but you might find them a bit,' she paused.

'Odd?' he offered and Hermione was surprised to hear him speak.

She smiled slightly. 'Different.'

She watched him observe his surroundings for a moment and wondered what he was thinking at the time he allowed a small smile to pass through his thoughts. She turned the trolley to the right and began to take an accustomed route to the clothes section. She found it slightly sad that she knew the layout of the shop as well as she knew her own home.

Draco observed the aisles as they reached the clothing department and Hermione was surprised to see him offer her a short shrug. Her own eyes squinted slightly; this had not been the reaction she had expected. She simply gestured for him to look and he glanced at her curiously.

She rolled her eyes. 'Pick something then—or do I have to?' she allowed an eyebrow to heighten and Draco pulled back slightly.

She watched as he walked over to a row of the clothes timidly. He was observing a row of t-shirts; black with a green printed stripe across the shoulder. 'This one?' he offered her, pulling the first one off of the rail and handing it her. She tried to hide a snort but was unsuccessful. Draco glared at her. 'What?' he snapped.

She unfolded the arms of the t-shirt, as they had been pinned back with plastic crocodile clips. She unfolded the shirt and it dropped down, showing its true size of extra, extra large. She checked the ticket and looked back up at Draco, who appeared to be hiding a smile of his own.

She grinned mischievously. 'You can have it if you want,' she had her head bowed and looked up once more.

He shook his head but was allowing himself to search the row of tops for a more appropriate size to his figure. His hands dropped down to the rail below and he was scanning some trousers doubtfully. He ripped a ticket off one of the pairs of trousers and handed it to Hermione.

'What does this mean?' he asked curiously, in the same polite tone he had used previously.

Hermione sighed strongly. 'You're not supposed to take those off,' she moaned, 'the large number is the price,' she pointed to it for him, 'the small number on the coloured block is the size,' she informed him.

'Well, how are you supposed to know what size you need,' he moaned and Hermione noted that his voice was unusually high.

'What size do you usually get?' she asked.

Draco's shoulders slumped and he rolled his lightened eyes. 'I don't know,' he said and quickly added, 'warlock size fits all?'

Hermione laughed; it had not been purposely but it certainly wasn't forced. Her cheeks were tinted with pink and she quickly calmed herself. Ignoring his face, she scanned the rack of trousers and pulled a pair towards herself. Taking them off of the hanger, she unfolded them and held them up in front of him, about a foot away. His back arched away slightly and as she looked up again to see his reaction, she noticed that he appeared to be smiling towards the ceiling.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Madness

_I'll give you a definite maybe._

—Sam Goldwyn

Hermione tried to make the trip on the doorstep look graceful, as she used her hip to push open the door and slid her key back out of the lock. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and picked up two plastic shopping bags that she had rested on the step. She turned around briefly and ignored a spot of light, reflected from a nearby car. The house opposite looked silent once again; as though nothing had happened the previous night but there was something about her street that was making Hermione nervous.

She scanned her guest with a dent in her cheek. He had insisted that he should carry the larger percentage of the bags from shopping and Hermione had been quick to take him up on the offer. The opportunity had given her great amusement and Draco was approaching the house somewhat slower than usual, a definite sweat breaking above his brow.

Hermione stepped into her house and left the door open for him. A fleck of ginger swept past her and Crookshanks disappeared under a neighbour's car. Hermione smiled at her cat and continued through the house into the kitchen, where she placed her own two shopping bags onto the counter and stretched her back against the side wall below the clock.

Hermione could hear Draco tripping through the door. 'You know, I have people to do this kind of thing for me,' he shouted, obviously trying to spark a response.

'No,' Hermione called back, moving towards the kitchen door so she could swing her head around, 'you have house elves,' she pointed out. Hermione peered around the frame, her hair drooping down slightly.

Draco brushed past her and she watched him as he lifted the carrier bags onto the table; she kept a smile to herself when the bottles clinked together. He rubbed his hands together and Hermione noticed the red grooves that had been pressed into his skin, as she walked beside him to begin unpacking the groceries. She quickly slid her hand back into her pocket to check that the wands were still comfortably positioned. They were.

Draco scratched his nose and Hermione quickly became preoccupied with some frozen carrots. 'Actually I don't anymore but we did,' he began to offer her conversation. 'Now I'm not too sure what is actually mine,' there wasn't a tone to his voice but as Hermione walked over to the freezer, she stared over at him and noticed abstractness to his eyes.

She decided that no comment was needed to be made in response and began to unpack some fresh milk, ignoring the fact that Draco was watching her interestedly. 'I'm doing it the muggle way,' she suddenly stated, surprising even herself.

'Why?'

Hermione paused to think and realised that honestly, she didn't understand why. She was a witch, despite her background and the truth of the matter was that she barely spent ten weeks a year out of the wizarding world. She opened the fridge door and stretched down to place the milk on the bottom shelf. As she closed the door again, she stared across at him blankly.

He was smiling slightly and Hermione noticed that his cheeks dented. 'Doesn't matter,' he mumbled and she wondered whether he had thought she had offended him.

Hermione decided she would attempt an answer, throwing a large bag of mixed flavoured crisps into a cupboard to her right. 'Because I can,' she informed him with a shrug.

Hermione continued to unpack the shopping and the bags quickly decreased in size as she moved around the kitchen loosely placing products into cupboards and the fridge. She'd almost forgotten Draco was there at all, until she could feel the presence of another human being breathing in the room. It was an extremely odd feeling, as she had become so used to her own company. She almost liked it.

When she had packed all but the last of the bags, which contained Draco's clothes, Hermione peered across at him and observed him for a moment as he stared out into the garden. There was a softness in his eyes that reminded her of a student in the year below her at Hogwarts; Luna Lovegood. His eyes currently had the same wide, glazed expression. Whereas with Luna it was disturbing, it was almost charming for Draco. She tried to ignore her thoughts.

Hermione picked up the bag with his clothes inside and handed them to Draco, who seemed almost oblivious to the action, even though he took it from her. She realised she was feeling remorse towards him but couldn't understand why. Either he had gone mad or she had and Hermione knew which was the more likely of the two options.

'You can go take those up to the spare room if you'd like,' she half instructed Draco. He looked up briefly and nodded. She didn't take her eyes off of him as he took large strides out of the kitchen. His head poked back around the doorframe and she smiled slightly, 'same room as before.'

Once she heard his footsteps echoing up the stairs, Hermione took a glass from off of the draining board and twisted the cold water tap. She watched the water flow for a moment and then pressed the glass underneath until it was halfway full. She sipped at the water, almost expecting to see a mirror image of herself shouting at her to get her guest out of the house.

Hermione wondered whether Draco had got lost, although she was sure it was less than likely. However, there was no sound of movement from anywhere within the walls and she shuddered, half of her expecting that he had left or was planning to jump her for his wand and get out of the faster than light. A second thought occurred to her; surely, if he could apperate, he would have had plenty of time to leave and return.

A sense of relief struck, as she heard footsteps pounce down the stairs. He swung into the kitchen and attempted to hide a grin. He had changed. Hermione decided that it was probably best not to tell him that the black jeans he was wearing were at least one size too big and that the black t-shirt was just the opposite. She slid the empty glass into the sink.

Hermione decided to try and remain polite. 'You look cheerful, too cheerful. You haven't been going through my drawers have you?' it was meant as a joke and the change of expression on his face appeared to match.

'Yup,' he responded. Hermione's eyes widened and she paused her breath until he rolled his eyes. 'Look,' he said quickly.

'At what?' Hermione jested, trying to ignore the seriousness that had crept into his voice.

There was a nervous pause. 'I just wanted to say,' Draco avoided eye contact.

'Are you still staying here?' Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice calm and casual. He nodded, gazing at his feet. 'Then let's just get through the week, alright?'

She watched him turn his neck straight again and felt an instant change in the room. Everything about him was so similar yet so different to what she believed of him. Even his posture was relaxed. She turned her body and felt the second wand catch against her leg. She suddenly realised what it must feel like to a wizard being detached from his wand. A sense of evil rushed through her.

'Well, anything that you want, just help yourself,' Hermione began to pace the room slightly as she spoke, half expecting his attitude to change viciously towards her.

'Thanks,' he mumbled in response. She thought the shock would kill her.

Hermione paused for a second and then began to walk towards the back door. Fumbling with the locks, she slowly released the catch on the door and opened the door wide. The heat struck her face but shortly afterwards there was a pleasant gust of air; warm, yet soothing. She turned around for a moment and watched Draco again; he looked as though he were waiting for instructions.

There was something about his demeanour that Hermione sill didn't like but she ignored the thoughts for something more pleasant. Stepping over to the freezer, she opened the door and crouched down to search for something in the bottom drawer. After half a minute or so, she reappeared with two brightly coloured ice-lollies, stood up and closed the door.

'I'm going to go sit outside for a bit,' she informed him, pointing through the window at three sun chairs. She handed Draco one of the wrapped lollies and stepped outside, 'you can watch some television or something if you want,' she called back without thinking.

Hermione was unsurprised to find him following her, as she stepped outside into the tidy garden. The sun was no longer at its highest in the sky and a large cherry tree gave some shade to the left. She peered across at him and he was twirling the ice-lolly curiously. She smiled but it was unnoticed.

She crawled onto one of the chairs and pulled one of the air cushions below her head to make it more comfortable for herself. Pulling off the wrapper to her ice-lolly, she closed her eyes for a second and appreciated the stinging cold in her hand. She opened her right eye and noticed that Draco had pulled himself into the chair beside her. He was also removing the wrapper.

Hermione paused for a second and licked some of the moisture off of the lolly, as the refreshment had already started to melt. Her eyes were closed again and the thought of the wand was causing a burning sensation on her leg. Professor McGonagall's conversation suddenly reinstated itself. Her free hand slipped into her pocket and she pulled Draco's wand from inside. It was still warm, as she passed it over towards him. She did not open her eyes but felt his hand brush against hers as he took it back.


End file.
